


Feliciano Vargas's Diary

by KrazyPerson6



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Human AU, M/M, gerita - Freeform, i wrote this as a joke, this is horribly cliche on purpose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22222909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrazyPerson6/pseuds/KrazyPerson6
Summary: Feliciano Vargas is a chef from Italy who recently moved to Germany. His life is going nowhere until he meets Ludwig Beilschmidt, a man with a passion for potatoes.Feliciano takes an instant dislike to Ludwig because he's a huge jerk who ran into him at the market and didn't even apologize!However, when a thug tries to attack Feliciano, Ludwig springs to the rescue. Feliciano begins to notice that Ludwig is actually rather delightful at heart.But, Ludwig is so obsessed with his potato art that it leaves him blind to Feliciano's affections and Feliciano takes up pasta to try and distract himself.Finally, when proud mechanic, Gilbert Beilschmidt, threatens to come between them, Ludwig has to act fast. But will they ever find the deep love that they deserve?
Relationships: Germany/North Italy (Hetalia)
Kudos: 14





	Feliciano Vargas's Diary

**Author's Note:**

> Oh lordy. So I haven't written a fanfic it quite some time. I had the sudden urge to write one, but I had no idea what to use for a plot. All I knew was that I wanted it to be GerIta and romantic. So my friend suggested I use one of those random plot generators, and I did. It came up with this... this, thing. It's absolutely cliche beyond reason and I nearly died several times while writing it. But it was still fun, so eh, that's all that really counts.

_“Dear Diary, things have been pretty boring for me for the last few years (that’s why I haven’t written anything in here in so long haha), but today I met this man who was such an asshole! I was just at the market buying some more pasta when he rudely ran into me and didn’t even apologize! His basket was overflowing with potatoes. I know I live in Germany now and people are really into them here, but the sheer amount he had just seemed excessive.”_

Feliciano Vargas put down his pen as he finished writing the entry in his diary and closing it. He was still mildly annoyed at the tall, blond (and admittedly handsome) man he had met at the market earlier in the day. Where did he get off being so rude?

He shook his head, his auburn hair shifting with the motion. Getting all worked up about it wouldn’t help anything, most of all his mood. He needed to distract himself and do something he enjoyed. He got up from his desk and walked into the kitchen. Being an Italian by birth, he was very passionate about food. He’d studied abroad in a well-known culinary school in New York City for four years, and then had decided to travel around the world to broaden his knowledge about foods everywhere.

He had somehow ended up in Germany. It really wasn’t his first choice when it came to culinary wonders of the world; he’d much rather have gone to France, but he was here and was trying to make the most of it. He had gotten a rather good job as a chef at a pretty high class restaurant and was mostly satisfied with how things were going.

The one downside was it was boring as hell. He’d fallen into such a dull drum that he wanted almost anything to happen to make things interesting. Actually, the run in with the man at the market was the most exciting thing that had happened to him in a good three months, and the last time was when a dog had snuck into the store room at the restaurant and stolen a bag of sugar and spilled its contents everywhere.

He pulled a mixing bowl out of the cabinet and started measuring out the ingredients for cannoli. His nonno had made them for him all the time when he was little and it always filled him with a warm, happy feeling when he made them.

Feliciano started to forget all about his unpleasant encounter as he hummed happily to himself, lost in the joy of cooking and the memory of his loved ones.

***

Ludwig Beilschmidt was sitting on the floor of his kitchen, surrounded with potatoes of various kinds, sizes, and states of wholeness. He was working on his latest piece of ‘art.’ This one resembled an angry red sea with green clouds. At least that’s what it was supposed to look like. Really it just looked like a toddler had been set loose on a canvas. The blond man had originally started out working at his family's auto mechanic shop, but recently he had gained a passion for art. More specifically art created using potatoes as his brushes. He’d cut the potatoes into various shapes and dip them in paint.

He was muttering something under his breath when his brother, Gilbert, walked into the kitchen. “Hey, Lud, what are you doing? You made one hell of a mess out of the kitchen again.” The albino walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a cold beer, carefully avoiding the red and green paint spilled on the linoleum.

His little brother ignored him, he was in the ‘zone’ and nothing would stop him from creating his ‘masterpiece’. “Mein Gott! I am so close! I can almost taste it!” He put his hands up to his face, smearing green paint all over it.

“Or we could taste it by washing all that crap off perfectly good potatoes and cooking them,” Gilbert said flatly. At first he had thought it was kind of cute how into this new obsession with art his brother was, but now it was starting to grate on his nerves. There were so many other things, far more productive things, he could be doing with his time other than making these, well… honestly, kindergarten paintings was the first thing that came to mind when Gilbert looked at his brother’s art.

“Also why are you sitting on the floor? You’ll kill your back.” He tried to prompt the younger man to stand by poking him lightly with one sock-clad foot.

“It helps my process, I can think of more ideas down here.” Ludwig scratched his head, lost in thought, unaware that he was only getting more paint on his person. His brother was throwing off his groove and he was unable to move on with his painting for the time being.

“Okay then, well, I think art time is over for today and it’s time to make supper.” Gilbert picked up a washcloth and started to wash the splattered paint off of the kitchen floor.

Ludwig sighed, but he relented to his older brother and put his art things away and washed his hands. “I was starting to get a little hungry. What’s for supper?”

Gilbert snickered, Ludwig still had green paint on his face and hair. “I dunno, potatoes? We certainly have enough of them.” He stared at all of the vegetables littering the kitchen.

“Nein! I need them for my art!” Ludwig exclaimed, aghast at the mere suggestion that his precious potatoes be used for something other than his beautiful artwork.

Gilbert sighed deeply, running a hand through his pale, platinum blond hair. “Then how about we go out to eat? Francis and Antonio keep going on about this new place that opened up not that far from here.”

“If it has to do with those two it’s probably some super snobby place, right?” Ludwig knew his brother’s friends, a rather flamboyant Frenchman and an exuberant Spainard that could easily get on his nerves.

“Well maybe, it does come really highly recommended. Come on, we haven’t hung out with the guys in forever, it’ll be fun. You know Francis will pay too.” He was already texting both friends and heading into his room to clean up and change. He had just gotten off work in the shop and wasn’t the cleanest. “Oh”, he added, shouting down the hall before closing his door, “wash the paint off your face and hair and change into that new suit Francis made for you!”

Ludwig only now realized his face and hair had paint on them and silently cursed his brother for not letting him know sooner. He had at least heard the part about someone else paying for the meal. A fancy sounding place like this was definitely not going to be cheap. He and his brother didn’t have an excess of money to spend on frivolous things like going to fancy restaurants.

Little did the man know that his entire life would change this very night.

***

Feliciano couldn’t believe it. Here he was at work, cooking up delicious food for his hungry and appreciative customers, when he came face to face with _that_ man again. His friend Francis had come in with his usual friends, Gilbert and Antonio, but this time they had brought Gilbert’s little brother with them. Francis had called him over to introduce them. While it wasn’t his job, Feliciano sometimes liked to go out into the dining area to see firsthand how the customers were enjoying their food.

He stiffly shook the younger man’s hand, having to use all of his training in customer service to keep from glaring holes into him and activating his Italian temper. It was a good thing he wasn’t his brother, Romano. He couldn’t hold back his temper to save his life.

“Nice to meet you,” Feliciano said through clenched teeth.

“Ja, it’s nice to meet you too,” Ludwig said noncommittally, not really looking at the chef. He really just wanted to eat and get out of here so he could get back to work on his paintings. He didn’t know why Francis wanted him to meet his friends. It was unlikely they’d have anything in common. 

He took a second look at the shorter man, he looked vaguely familiar. “Hey, have we met before?”

“Funny you should mention it,” Feliciano’s eye twitched, “we have. This morning, at the market. Remember?”

Ludwig frowned, trying to remember. He had gone to the market that morning, to get more potatoes for his art. He didn’t really remember anything other than the horrified expression of the young cashier who had to ring up his large order of potatoes. “Nein?”

“You really don’t remember?” The Italian wasn’t able to hold back a slight twinge of exasperation from his voice this time.

“I really don’t. Maybe you saw someone else who looked like me?”

Feliciano couldn’t hold it back any longer. “You ran into me! You almost made me fall over and you didn’t even apologize!” He threw his hands up into the air. “And now you say you don’t even remember it?!”

Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis had been watching this exchange in silence up until now. Francis was the first to speak up. “Is this true, Ludwig? Apologize to mon petit Feliciano this instant!”

“Humpf, I won’t apologize for something I didn’t do!” Ludwig glared over his shoulder at Feliciano and stormed out of the restaurant.

“Are you calling me a liar?!” Feliciano screamed at his back as he left. He went back to the restaurant’s kitchen, not wanting anyone to see that he was starting to cry. He was a very emotional man and didn’t handle anger very well. He also couldn’t stand conflict and was a little scared.

The three friends remaining at the table looked at each other awkwardly.

Gilbert tried to explain his brother’s actions to his friends. “He’s been...in a really weird mood of late. Ever since he went off on his ‘potato art’ craze. Last month he took a holiday to Italy to ‘find himself’ or something and met this weird old man who said potatoes were the most beautiful thing in the world and the only true artform. He apparently really bought into that old coot and here he is, crazy about making potato art. I think he might also not be very fond of Italians at the moment either, since he tried to show his art to people in Italy and was basically laughed out of the country.”

“That does help explain it a little, mi amigo, but he still can’t be that rude to anyone, especially our lindo Feliciano,” Antonio said, picking at his food. While the food was delicious, all this unnecessary drama was stealing his appetite.

“Should I try talking to him?” Francis asked.

“Better not. No offense, Francis, but you’re not my brother’s favorite person. He’s still not entirely sure you weren’t trying to hit on him when you made him strip down to his underwear for the measurements for that suit you gave him.” Gilbert couldn’t help but snicker a little at the memory. It had been very loud in their house that day.

“Sacrebleu! I was not! Your brother just needed a new suit. He’s gotten to wearing such shabby things of late that I just couldn’t help it. And how else am I going to get accurate measurements?” Francis huffed.

They finished their meal, all still a little rattled, none of them knowing that the drama was only going to get worse for them.

***

_Dear Diary, I am so mad right now! I can’t believe it! That awful man I ran into at the market this morning who was so rude to me came to the restaurant! He didn’t even recognize me! The nerve of him! Even if he didn’t remember my face, he should have at least remembered that he ran into someone!_

Feliciano had to stop writing, he was so angry that the pen was starting to shake and his words were becoming illegible. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this angry. He tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm himself down.

He put his coat on and stepped outside. It was nearly midnight, so not the best time for a walk, but maybe some fresh air would clear his head. He left his apartment and started heading towards the nearest park.

The walking began to work. He started to calm down, even if just a little bit. It was really very silly to be this mad about something as small as accidentally bumping into someone. Could there be a deeper reason why it had upset him so much? Could he possibly…? He shook his head violently, not even wanting to fully form the thought in his head. Was it at all possible that he had feelings for the man? That couldn’t be the case! The man was such a rude jerk. Handsome, yes, but that didn’t excuse his behavior at all.

Feliciano kicked at a small pile of brightly colored leaves that was illuminated in the light of a streetlight. He sighed, it was a little cold out and he did feel like he’d helped clear his head at least some. He turned to head back to his warm apartment, only barely making it out of the reassuring light of the streetlight before a gruff voice sounded from the shadows.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here so late by yourself?” A scruffy looking man with a dark beard stepped closer to him.

Feliciano instantly felt on edge. This man could only mean trouble. “No business of yours!” His voice shook as he tried to sound tough. He really wished he had some kind of weapon on him, or at least pepper spray or something like that.

The man pulled out a knife and pointed it at the Italian. “Give me all your money!” he demanded.

Feliciano put his hands up. “I know you won’t believe me, but I don’t even have my wallet on me.” It was true, he’d only stuck the key to his apartment in his pocket before leaving.

“Like I’d believe that!” The man started to get close enough to him that he could smell his rancid breath.

“I said you wouldn’t believe me, but it’s true!” Feliciano was trying to think of something, anything he could do. He didn’t even have his phone on him, not that he’d have time to call anyone with a knife pointed at him.

Suddenly the shruffy man let out a pained cry and fell to the ground. He’d been struck by something heavy from behind. The knife fell out of his hand and skidded across the sidewalk, out of reach.

Feliciano looked around frantically, afraid that maybe someone even more horrible had attacked the man to get to him. He quickly picked up the knife, holding it awkwardly in front of him. Being a very good chef, he of course knew how to properly use a knife, but only in cooking. He hadn’t a clue how to use one to defend himself.

A tall figure stepped over the unconscious man and into the light of the streetlight. His blond hair seemed to almost glow in the light, giving the illusion that he had a halo; and to Feliciano, he was an angel.

He blinked a few times. 

It was Ludwig.

Feliciano immediately dropped the knife, luckily avoiding hitting his own feet, and rushed to hug his rescuer. “Thank you so much! He could have killed me!”

It was Ludwig’s turn to blink in confusion. He only now realized who it was that he had saved. He couldn’t sleep so he went out for a jog. He’d seen something suspicious going on so he’d come closer to investigate, finding what looked like a shady man trying to rob someone. Without a second thought he’d picked up a good sized rock and thrown it at the man.

“You’re welcome,” Ludwig said, he then added, sounding genuinely concerned, “you aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m fine. He didn’t even touch me.” Feliciano let go of the younger man, blushing slightly. Now that he was this close he could see how pretty Ludwig’s eyes were, blue like a summer’s sky. Maybe he wasn’t all that bad.

“We should get home, do you live near here?” Ludwig asked, rubbing his hands together to try to warm them up. Now that he wasn’t jogging he was feeling the cold.

“Ah yes, I do, not far at all, only a few blocks.” The auburn-haired man started to walk back to his apartment. He paused and looked behind him. “Did you want to come with me? It’s getting awfully cold out here.”

“Ja,” was all the blond gave as a reply. He didn’t want to embarrass Feliciano by saying it outloud, but he’d wanted to suggest walking him back to his apartment. He’d just nearly been mugged afterall, he wanted to make sure he was safe. Was that kind of weird? He’d only just met the older man that day, but he felt slightly protective of him, even though he’d yelled at him.

They made it to Feliciano’s apartment without incident. Feliciano held the door to the building open after he had unlocked it. “Aren’t you coming in?” he asked after Ludwig didn’t move to follow him in.

“Nein, I really need to get home. Gilbert will worry if I’m not home.” He was completely oblivious to the implications of being invited inside the apartment.

“Oh okay.” Feliciano was surprised that he felt a little disappointed that his invitation had been declined. “Oh, just one thing, can I have your number? I want to know that you made it back home safe too.” He held out a piece of paper and a pencil he had found in his coat for Ludwig to write his number down on.

“Okay, Mama,” Ludwig teased. Even so, he gave his number.

Feliciano smiled, tucking the small piece of paper into his pocket. Ludwig really wasn’t as bad as he had first thought. Even more surprising, he actually replied when Feliciano sent him a short message asking if he’d made it home.

***

_Dear Diary, I know this sounds crazy, but I think I really like Ludwig now. He saved me from this creepy guy in the park that wanted all my money! I even got his number. I hope this all works out. He’s so handsome and strong._

Over the next few weeks Feliciano slowly started to fall for Ludwig. He made it a point to text him at least once a day, even if it was just a weird meme he had found. Ludwig was often confused by the things he sent him, but he always replied. 

Until one day he didn’t. Feliciano wrote it off as him just being busy, but when he didn’t reply the next day, and the next, he started to worry. An entire week went by without a single text. He started to think that Ludwig didn’t like him at all, even as a friend. Maybe he sent too many texts and Ludwig had gotten annoyed and decided to ignore him?

He got Ludwig’s address thanks to Francis and stopped by in person. He gulped before knocking on the door. “Hello, sorry to show up unexpectedly, but is your brother home?”

Gilbert was the one to answer the door, clad only in a bath towel as he had only just gotten out of the shower. “Hi, Feliciano, long time no see! Actually, Lud isn’t home right now. He went out to get even more potatoes. But he probably will be back pretty soon if you want to come in and wait with my awesomeness.” He swung the door open wide to let the Italian in.

Feliciano blushed a little at Gilbert’s half naked body. He was surprisingly well muscled. He’d never seen him shirtless before and had no idea. He shook his head, it was Ludwig he liked, not his brother. He took a seat on the couch and waited.

In a few minutes Gilbert came in, now wearing a pair of tight-fitting black jeans, and nothing else. He was carrying a glass of beer in one hand. He sat down on the couch next to Feliciano and took a swig of his drink. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you want some?”

“Oh no, I’m good, but thanks,” Feliciano said, trying to avoid staring at the other man. Did he even know how attractive he was?

“If you don’t want beer I have wine,” Gilbert suggested. Feliciano looked super uptight and he wanted to do something to loosen him up. “Francis left it here, so it’s the good stuff.”

It was only 10 o’clock in the morning, but Feliciano took him up on the offer. The wine was a pretty old one so it didn’t take him long to get rather drunk. Soon he was giggling and snuggling up to Gilbert. “Has anyone everrr…hic, scusa, I meaaan, has anyone ever told you that you are kind of hot?” His words were very slurred.

“I had a girlfriend who said that once, before hitting me over the head with a frying pan.” Gilbert wasn’t drunk at all. It took a lot more than one beer to even get him tipsy, but he was noticing how cute Feliciano was. He’d noticed before, of course, but he figured that the man was much too high class to want anything to do with a simple mechanic like himself. He leaned in closer, giving the shorter man a quick kiss on the cheek, checking to see if he didn’t like it. He didn’t react at all to the kiss, just collapsed on Gilbert’s chest, fast asleep.

Ludwig chose just that moment to come home. “What the hell? Go to your room if you’re going to do that!” He blushed deeply, assuming something more was going on.

“Nein, Lud, it’s not what it looks like!” Gilbert gently slid Feliciano down onto the couch and stood up.

“Oh, then what is it? What am I supposed to think, you half naked with my best friend on your chest!” Ludwig hadn’t really told Feliciano that he viewed him as his best friend. Truth was that he didn’t really have any other friends, so by default that made the Italian his best friend. He’d only stopped replying to his texts because his phone had died and he’d forgotten to charge it because he was so caught up in his art. So caught up that he even lost all track of time and didn’t have a clue that it had been an entire week and that that was the reason Feliciano was here now.

He went to his room and locked the door. Maybe he didn’t need any friends. All he needed was his art. Ludwig threw himself even deeper into his work, blocking everything else out.

***

_Dear Diary, Ludwig didn’t even want to see me when I went over to his house to see how he was doing. At least that’s what his brother, Gilbert, said. I kind of wonder if it’s true or not. Gilbert seems like a nice guy though, he even walked me home when I was still pretty wasted. I probably shouldn’t have drank all that wine, my head hurts. So does my heart. I thought I might have something with Ludwig, but it looks like he’s not interested. I don’t know what to do._

Feliciano stared blankly at the wall of his bedroom, at a loss at what to do. He felt like his heart had been broken, but he hadn’t even officially confessed his feelings for Ludwig. He’d had every intention to earlier that day, but it never happened.

Walking into the kitchen he started to fill his pots with water. He filled enough pots that every burner on the stove had one. He was going to make so much pasta. Maybe enough pasta to fill the huge, gaping hole inside him.

***

Gilbert was worried about Ludwig, he’d only come out of his room about once a day, and then only to use the restroom and grab some food quickly before hiding back inside. He knew he needed to do something about it. He also had a pretty good idea he knew the reason behind it; and it had nothing to do with his silly potato art.

He set up a plan to know for sure.

He’d had to enlist both Francis and Antonio to man-handle Ludwig out of his room. Although he was the youngest of all of them, he was very strong—and with how he was kicking and screaming, it took all three of them combined to get him out of his room, washed up, and changed into his suit.

Now they were back at the restaurant that Feliciano worked at. Ludwig was sitting in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, still complaining about being forcibly dragged here by his brother and his friends.

It was a special night at the restaurant. Tonight they had planned a ball. It wasn’t a terribly large place, so they had to move most of the tables closer together to make room for a dance floor, but they had made it work. Soft classical music started to play.

A couple in elegant clothes—the man in a fancy, old-fashioned suit with a cravat, and the woman in a stunning green dress—stepped out onto the dance floor and started off the dance. Soon other couples, and even just single people who wanted in on the fun joined them.

Feliciano came out of the kitchen to watch. He spotted Ludwig, wondering if he dared approach. He looked so handsome in his tailor-made black suit. Before he could make up his mind about whether or not to risk it, Gilbert showed up next to him. He was wearing an identical suit to his brother and also looked very handsome.

Gilbert gave an elegant bow and stretched out a hand to him. “May I have this dance, my good gentleman?”

Feliciano blushed. “I’m flattered, really, but I’m not even dressed for it.” He was still in his chef clothes complete with apron and hat.

“Nonsense, you look lovely.” Gilbert took Felciano by the arm and guided him out to the dance floor.

Feliciano relentented and let Gilbert lead him in just one dance. It was fun, but he just didn’t feel a spark between them. While he was attractive, Gilbert just wasn’t the one for him. He stared longingly over at Ludwig, hoping against hope that maybe he really did like him too.

Gilbert knew it was now or never. He’d probably get in trouble for what he was about to do, but his brother was as dumb as a sack of bricks when it came to matters of love and sometimes just needed a kick in the seat of the pants to set him in the right direction. He leaned down towards Feliciano, placing one hand on the small of his back and the other on the side of his face; Gilbert’s red eyes looked down with a dash of mischief into his golden ones. He leaned closer and closer, puckering his lips and making it super obvious that he was going in for a kiss.

He never made contact with Feliciano’s lips.

He was grabbed roughly by a pair of strong hands and flung to the side. “He’s not yours!” Ludwig shouted, stepping in at the last second to tear them apart.

“Ludwig…” Feliciano said softly. His wish had been granted, his prince had swooped in and saved his honor. “Does this mean that you…” He couldn’t utter the words without first hearing them from Ludwig’s lips.

“I really like you, Feliciano, can we start over? Will you be my boyfriend?” Ludwig was gripping Feliciano’s hand, hoping he’d say yes.

“Yes, of course.” Feliciano didn’t care that everyone in the restaurant was staring at them, he stood on the tips of his toes and grasped Ludwig’s tie, pulling him down so gold eyes met blue, and kissed him full on the lips.

Ludwig blushed scarlet, but returned the kiss just as passionately. After they parted for air he gasped out, “I’d like to start out by apologizing for almost knocking you over at the market.”

Feliciano put a finger over Ludwig’s mouth, stopping him from saying anything else. “Shh, there’s no need. If that never happened, none of this would have started and we wouldn’t be together like this, in this perfect moment.” He kissed the blond again before standing up straight and holding out his hand. “Shall we dance, amore?”

Ludwig gladly accepted the invitation this time. The future looked bright for the two young lovers. They’d probably need to have a serious conversation about Ludwig and his potato art, but that was a problem for another day. Today was all about their new found love.


End file.
